


Poppy Seeds

by chaya



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Food, M/M, Nightmares, Wholesome Farmer OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-10-11 07:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: What is Zemnian baking like, exactly?





	1. Jester

“It was a rat’s nest,” Fjord reports, dropping heavily on the inn bed as Jester takes her haversack off her shoulder.

“It was worse than a rat’s nest,” Nott corrects him. “At least rat’s nests have  _rats_.”

Fjord’s eyes narrow a little in disagreement, but he visibly decides to let it slide. “Anyway, the guy was long dead and the place was fallin’ apart, so we helped ourselves to his gold and some of his things.”

“You found his body?” Caduceus asks.

“We buried it,” Nott reports proudly. “His robes looked nice but we  _left_  him in them, because he probably wouldn’t want to be buried naked. Alsohiscorpsewasgross.”

Jester is pulling books of varying sizes and ages out of her haversack, making a neat pile in front of Caleb. “Weee fouuuund booooks!” She nudges the first stack toward the interested wizard and begins another pile. “But also, no offense, we are getting low on space in this bag, so if any of them are like, totally useless, please say so and we’ll sell them at the bookstore here, and not carry them along with us.”

Caleb, already cross-legged on the floor, is looking at each one and dividing them into one of two new piles while Nott looks on fondly. “This one I already have,” he mumbles to himself, “but the binding is much nicer. We can sell this… keep the other…”

“Ooh, ooh,” Jester says excitedly, drawing Caduceus and Beau closer as she pulls out a slim green book with faded endpapers. “This is the best one!”

“It is?” Caleb’s eyes light up and he reaches for it, not quite close enough to get it.

“It’s in  _Zemnian_ ,” Jester stage-whispers enthusiastically. Caleb leans on one hand to reach further, snapping it out of her grasp and opening it immediately to a random page. His face drops.

“It’s… a cookbook.”

Several people groan or laugh. “In  _Zemnian_ , though,” Fjord says over the mixed reactions. “That’s a lucky find around here!”

“Yes, I can…” Caleb’s sarcastic tone trails off, eyes on Jester’s disappointed and slightly sheepish face. “… it, it was very thoughtful. To get. Thank you, Jester.”

“It was a nice thought,” Beau agrees, clapping her shoulder.

“I thought it might be math stuff,” Jester says quietly to her lap.

“It does have a bunch of fractions on every page,” Caleb concedes gently.

**

Later, when they’ve had dinner downstairs and the rest of the group has filtered upstairs or outside, Caduceus turns to Jester.

“I have a money question for you,” he says thoughtfully.

Jester perks up a little. “Like, what you should spend it on?” The idea of a shopping trip in this little village doesn’t sound like the most exciting opportunity, but they all just divvied up their new findings and if Caduceus wants to do it, Jester will support him.

“How much something costs, actually.” Caduceus lifts his chin slightly, indicating their room upstairs. “Selling something second-hand doesn’t get you nearly as much gold as if the thing were new, usually… how much do you think we would get for that cookbook?”

Reminded of her earlier embarrassment, Jester deflates. “Probably like twenty copper,” she admits in a huff of air. “Cook books aren’t super rare, and also, nobody can read Zemnian around here, I don’t think, so… why would anyone bother.”

Caduceus doesn’t seem similarly deflated. He just nods and tilts his head. The way his hair moves when he does this is very pretty, and helps distract Jester a little bit from what a goof she feels like. “But there are translation books, that go between Common and Zemnian.”

“Sure, like, someone could  _buy_  one and  _do_  that, but it’s a lot of effort for -” Jester’s eyes go round. “Do you want to bake Zemnian things!?”

Caduceus gives her a lopsided smile. “I don’t think a translation book would cost much, would it?”

**

“Backen für Alle,” Jester says slowly, struggling around the vowels as she tries to sound like Caleb. “It sounds like it’s about back hair. All-eh. All back hair?”

“Backen means baking,” Caduceus reports, flipping through his new phrase book. “Fur… with dots… hold on.”

“Is this gonna take a really long time?”

“I’m sure once I get a few commonly used words it will go much faster. Words like ‘add’ and ‘pour’ and ‘mix’.”

“That makes sense. You’re so  _smart_ , Caduceus.”

“You spotted a book in a language you don’t even speak. That’s pretty smart, I think.” Caduceus smiles as he turns another page with ‘F’ in the corner. “Actually, I think being thoughtful is its own kind of smart. Remembering what everyone likes and needs… it’s important. And difficult.”

Jester feels her cheeks go a little warm as she peeks upside-down at the book. “For,” she says, beating him to it. “Baking for.”

“And then All-ee, or All-eh…” Caduceus hums and tips the book back, bringing it to the beginning.

“All- _eh_ , I think.” Jester tries not to pay attention to how her forehead is almost touching Caduceus’s. She used to think she felt a little funny around him because he was so big and his nose and ears were so different, but then it was maybe because his hair was bright pink, and lately she just hasn’t been sure. “He says ‘all-ehs goot’ sometimes so maybe it’s the same word.”

Caduceus nods. “What does ‘all-ehs goot’ mean?”

“I think it means ‘calm down I’m fine’. He usually says it when he’s gotten beat up but not  _super_ beat up.”

“All,” Caduceus reads suddenly. “All. Baking for All.”

Jester bounces a little, grinning. “Great! We know the title now!”


	2. Caduceus

When they bail Jester out of jail for defacing the statue of Helm in the town square, she looks appropriately downcast.

“She won’t do it again,” Fjord assures the guard, taking her shoulder and leading her toward the front door.

“She’s very ill,” Nott adds. “Compulsive issues. Very sad.”

“We’ll take good care of her.” Caduceus holds the door for all of them, giving the skeptical guard a thank-you nod before ducking down and walking out into the afternoon sun. Beau is giving Jester a hug, and does not let go until Jester returns it.

“I’m sorry, you guys.” Jester sounds extremely morose, and Caduceus finds himself surprised by this. It seems to him like this group breaks the law frequently and with great variation - a few have mentioned jail before, but perhaps this is Jester’s first time getting caught at something.

“It’s okay.” Fjord is actually smiling a little, affectionate. Several of them seem to be focused on cheering her up, not upset at all. “You do okay in there?”

“I just stared at the wall and waited,” Jester says. It’s not true, though. Caduceus frowns and tilts his head a little, wondering why she is lying and what she would be hiding. Maybe she tried to charm a guard into letting her out, and failed.

Caleb is gesturing down the road, to the restaurant they saw earlier. “You’ll cheer up if we get some food in you. Did you eat in there?”

Jester seems to perk a little in spite of herself. “They gave me bread but it was stale, so I just…” She reaches into one of the large side pockets in her dress, pulling out a stale roll that Beau immediately grabs and chucks overhand, across the dirt road and into the woods.

“ _Fuck_  that bread. Let’s go get you real food.”

Jester laughs. Several of them do. The mood is lighter as they walk toward the restaurant.

**

Caduceus hangs around at the ground floor of the inn, because whenever he does so, Jester seems to be there, and she’s always excited to talk. He’s happy to be there for her a little extra after her run-in with the authorities. Plus, this bench is angled toward the hearth and it’s a pleasant change from the chill outside.

“I did a lot in jail,” Jester confides in him, after Beau has gone upstairs.

Caduceus blinks. “Oh?” He’s not sure what kind of work she could do in there.

Jester leans all the way forward, chest pressing up against her knees, fiddling with her skirts until she produces two small books from one of the hidden pockets. Caduceus recognizes them as the recipe book and the phrase book. “They let me have reading stuff as long as it wasn’t magic,” she says, and is eagerly pushing the cookbook into his hands.

“That’s nice of them.” Caduceus gently nudges the cover open, then thumbs through the table of con- there’s scribbling that wasn’t there before. He leafs back, squinting, and sees neat, careful writing next to every chapter. Next to ‘Kuchen’, she has written ‘Cake’. Next to ‘Brot’, she has written ‘Bread’.

“I did all the chapter names and all the, the recipe names,” Jester is saying very quickly. “And I didn’t finish it, but I  _started_ a cheat sheet on the inside, um, the inside back cover? Butter is just ‘butter’ but sugar is ‘ _zucker_ ’, which is fun to say but I never would have guessed what it meant…”

“This is great, Jester.” Caduceus can feel himself smiling. Flipping to a random page, he sees a long word he doesn’t understand, but ‘breakfast cake’ right next to it. Another page is ‘carrot cake’.

“One cake is made with flowers, I think,” Jester confides.

Caduceus looks up. “Really?” Jester looks very excited by this fact, and it looks like the same excitement she had when she originally found the Zemnian book - she thinks a flower cake might be especially interesting to Caduceus. Jester’s energy really is so pleasant.

“So, on page… twenty-six? Check twenty six…”

“Poppy cake,” Caduceus reads, tilting his head a little. He looks down at the list of ingredients, then at the word at the top again, trying to find the ingredient.. it’s measured in…

“…like maybe you put pretty flower petals  _all over it_ , and make them stick with  _icing_ ,”

“I bet it’s seeds, actually.” Caduceus points to it in the ingredients list. “Poppy seeds would make sense in a cake.”

Jester looks extremely disappointed. “Oh.”

Caduceus, for a reason he can’t quite pin down, feels personally responsible for how let down she is. “Some flowers are edible,” he hedges. “I know a few. If you want, I can make a little cake for you sometime with flower petals on it. Maybe just not this recipe.” She looks like she might cry, and that is more alarming. “Is that… do you not want one?”

“Nooo, Caduceus, now I really  _reaaally_ want one… but you don’t have to, though…”

“Maybe after this one.” Caduceus raps his knuckle against the page. “Poppy seeds aren’t hard to find, I don’t think. I’ve seen them in muffins at bakeries when I’ve gone in with you.”

“You never buy anything,” Jester says suspiciously.

Caduceus reflects on this. “No, I like making my own food, but. You’re always very cheerful when you go pick something out, and you seem much happier when one of us goes with you.”

To this, Jester waggles her head from side to side, as if considering it. “That’s true,” she says. “I guess, as long as you don’t mind going.”


	3. Caleb 1/3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Thursday's episode, c2ep49.

Caleb isn’t superbly well-read on different kinds of divine magic, but he knows that Caduceus’s healing is different from Jester’s. Not just because they follow different gods; there are other little differences and advantages to each.

Whenever Caleb goes down in a fight, it’s Caduceus that brings him back up.

“It’s over,” the firbolg says, and Caleb nods and takes in a deep, rattling breath as the feeling in his limbs comes back to him. There is blood matted in his hair and it’s sticking thick strands of hair to his face. Caduceus doesn’t seem surprised that he hasn’t gotten up yet - he watches in blurred vision as the larger man stays knelt over him, careful fingers tugging the strands of hair away until his face is cleared.

Caleb’s back aches. It’s supported, though, and he realizes it’s by Caduceus’s other hand, gently supporting his shoulders off the rocky ground. “Danke,” he mumbles.

“Bit-eh,” Caduceus responds in careful syllables, making Caleb’s eyes widen and the hairs on his back of his neck stand on end.

“Kennst du Zemnisch?”

Caduceus looks a little lost, and smiles. “Sorry, I haven’t learned that much.” He straightens a little, looking over his shoulder a few moments. Caleb feels several disgusting wet coughs coming on, and suppresses them until there’s not a very kind man (possibly with a penchant for languages?) within range. “I think we’re about ready to head back. Can you stand?”

“Ja, yes, I think can manage.” Caleb nods gratefully as Caduceus lets him go, watching the towering figure get to his feet and stand back a little, watching Caleb but not hovering. Caleb makes sure to take his time putting his boots under him, getting up slowly, rearranging the book holster that’s digging into a bruise at his ribs. “Yes. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Caduceus tilts his head a little. His hair - his hair isn’t important. Caleb turns away, looking to Beau and Fjord on the other side of the clearing, working together to carve up the valuable parts of the beast.

“Caleb?” It’s Nott, down at his side. “Are you feeling alright? You look dizzy.”

“I am a little dizzy,” he admits. “Mr. Clay just woke me back up.”

“I saw you get thrown back against that rock.” Her brows are pressed together, forming lines of worry. Something in Caleb’s chest melts.

“I’m okay.  _We_  are okay. We have a good group, ja?”

This seems to ease her concern. “We do,” she agrees, and looks over to the beast, and then to the healers, who are talking quietly together. “We’re lucky to have two healers now. Beau wasn’t unconscious, but she was  _really_  bad when Jester got to her. You weren’t awake yet.”

“You will have to give me the recap when we get back to town.” Caleb smiles and feels the left side of his face sting terribly. He’ll have to find a mirror and figure out what’s causing that.

**

Caleb should have known not to go directly to sleep when they got to the inn, no matter how tired he was from all the spells and the bruising, because his forearms were aching and it was feeling hard to concentrate.

But he is tired, and it’s hard to remember why he should be careful when Jester is in good spirits and using one giant harvested tusk to duel against Beau’s staff. They’re smiling and laughing. Nott checks on him before the others go downstairs to start selling off the parts and collecting their pay.

“I’m fine,” Caleb assures her.

He’s not.

 _Bren_ , he hears, maybe a few moments later. He can feel the jagged pressure in his skin, thrumming, making tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He can’t cry again. He can’t cry again because if he’s useless, if they decide he’s useless, he’s-

“Caleb?”

He opens his eyes and Fjord is standing over him, hand light on his shoulder.

“Wake up, buddy.”

Caleb swallows thickly, watching as Fjord lets go but keeps looking at him with worry. “Aren’t you going to sell the tusks?” Caleb asks.

“We did,” Fjord says a little oddly, and Caleb realizes that the entire bed is warm underneath him - no matter how much it feels like it, he did not just lay his head down on the pillow.  “What’s up with your arms? You okay?”

Caleb looks down and realizes he’s digging his nails into his own forearms. That it  _hurts_. “Tut mir leid,” he apologizes, a little senselessly. He lets go and winces at the pain of release, too ashamed to check for drawn blood when Fjord is hovering right over him with such concern. He’s a mess. “How, um, how did it all sell?”

“Apparently the weird gland that was leaking all the way back was leaking… the fluid that was worth anything in the first place…” Fjord rubs his jaw and looks away. It’s clear he’s noticed the turn in conversation but is allowing it. “Everything else sold fine. Jester’s got your nineteen gold and four silver downstairs.” A beat. “You wanna come down and eat with us?”


	4. Caleb 2/3

Caleb smells roasted meat as he descends the stairs, along with something starchy. He frowns, turning the corner to see everyone with a stew and potatoes on the side. Nott catches his eye.

“The cook made beef stew, and he cooked the potatoes in beef fat.”

A few months ago this would have sounded like a fairly random comment, but they’ve all learned enough about Caduceus for him to understand. “So he’s making something for himself?”

“For all of us,” Beau corrects, using her foot to kick the chair next to her back so Caleb can get settled in. “I don’t know what he can make with what they’ve got in there, but Jester said something about their ingredients?”

“He’s hoardin’ vegetables in all that billowy fabric,” Fjord says in a comedically serious tone.

“I smell olive oil,” Yasha observes.

Caleb begins on his still-warm stew, quietly grateful for the chance to get some meat and animal fat. (Neither he, nor any of the other team, would ever say as much in front of the firbolg. The food he makes is too carefully prepared and good in its own right to ever allow complaint.) “Where is Jester? Is she helping?”

“She helped charm the cook out of there-” Beau jerks her chin to a greasy looking man at a small table in the corner, who is suspiciously picking at a colorful bowl of salad. “-and now I think she’s playing the runner.”

“Runner?”

“CAUL-I-FLOWER,” Jester announces loudly, holding a comically oversized platter full of bowls. She plunks it down at the cook’s table first, unloading one of the smaller bowls and giving him a big smile before moving on to the next group, where a trio of merchants look in curious surprise at the bowl they’re given to share.

“That’s the olive oil,” Yasha says with some satisfaction.

“Yes,” Jester says, overhearing, and turns back to the cook as she passes out bowls to the grateful pack of farmers, and then the two drunks at the bar, and finally to the Nein. “Also, you are out of olive oil now, but it’s kind of okay because you had a huge bottle but it was all about to go rancid if you didn’t use it soon.”

“Olive oil doesn’t go rancid, does it?” The cook squints in confusion, and Caleb makes sure to hide his expression behind his napkin.

“Last one for youuuu,” Jester singsongs, taking the biggest bowl off the platter and putting it in the middle of the table for the group to share. “It’s got garlic, and red pepper, and I forget what else.”

“Smells great,” Fjord compliments, to various agreeing sounds at the table. “You, uh, comin’ to sit with us?”

She shakes her head, trying to smoothly tuck the platter under her arm like a waitress but almost dropping it instead. “There’s one more side coming, and then also, a dessert!”

Caleb feels strange and realizes that Jester is smiling at him, directly, and he can’t figure out why. “I will have some,” he hazards, wondering if his appetite was in question. To be fair, he started out in this group with very little stomach for large meals.

Jester just smiles bigger, and Caleb can’t work out if he said the right thing or not. Before he can ask, she’s turned on her heel, hurrying back into the kitchen.


	5. Caleb 3/3

“It’s got crunch,” Nott reports around a mouthful of cauliflower. Everyone else is using forks to stab or scoot the florets, but Nott just leans forward and grabs another one in her hand. “S'good! C'l'b, you fough’ har’, you sh’ ea’.”

Fjord laughs. “Yeah, what she said,” he agrees teasingly.

Nott narrows her eyes at the half-orc but says nothing.

“It looks great,” Caleb says a little too loudly, moving his chipped dinner plate to the bowl and using his fork to ease two florets over. The first bite is good, easy on what is still a very anxious digestive system, and after a few more chews he decides to try dunking it in the beef stew. Even better. He makes a meaningful face at Nott, encouraging her to try, and everyone at the table checks to make sure Caduceus is still in the kitchen before trying as well.

“It’s also good as it is,” Yasha adds. Everyone nods dutifully.

“Berm! Swales!” the cook in the corner shouts. Two famers look over from the table. “This is yours, right?” He’s holding up a piece of cauliflower.

“Aye,” either Berm or Swales agrees.

“I don’t know what that cow man did to your broccoli, but it tastes damn fine, huh?”

Either Berm or Swales exchanges a glance with either Swales or Berm, and they seem to mutually decide not to correct him.

“I can smell dessert,” Beau says conspiratorially. She’s leaning back in her chair with one arm drawn back, peering toward the hall to the kitchen.

“I don’t smell anything,” Fjord says.

“Your nostrils probably got damaged from all the seawater,” Nott suggests helpfully.

Caleb laughs. “Paint us a picture, Beau.”

“Cakey something. Muffins? Definitely not chocolate.” Beau breathes in deeply.

“S'good.” When Yasha leans back in her chair as well trying to get a bit closer and get the scent, Beau’s cheeks darken a touch and she goes still. Caleb wonders if something will ever come of that.

“It’s nice,” Yasha agrees, then lifts her eyebrows. “Okay, now it’s… garlic.”

“Garlic dessert,” Caleb says, unable to hide his suspicion.

“No, no, they must’ve just opened an oven.” Beau looks to her space at the table, and seems to realize there isn’t much space for an oncoming dish. She very quickly starts a trend by picking up her stew bowl and drinking down what’s left of it so they can begin stacking the empties. “Fuck that’s greasy.”

“Kind of a nice counterpoint to the Firbolg Food,” Nott says. She’s dragging her last cauliflower floret around the edges of her bowl, coating it in brown broth before stuffing it into her mouth.

“GREEN BEANS!” Jester shouts, doing her best serving wench impression as she reemerges with the serving platter. The cook seems far more at home with this dish as it’s set in front of him, and the merchant and farmer table both nod gratefully as the tiefling comes by and drops off their portions.

“Thank you,” Fjord says pointedly, smiling as Jester comes by with their extra-big bowl. Jester tosses her hair out of her face, making an absentminded grunt of acknowledgement before disappearing quickly back into the kitchen. Caleb watches Fjord’s expression fall a little - he strikes Caleb as someone who wants a little more response but doesn’t know how to reach out further himself. Caleb can’t judge. He’s in no position to judge anyone.

“This is the garlic,” Beau says approvingly, tilting the bowl in one direction so Nott, Yasha, and Caleb can start getting portions onto their plates. Caleb then tilts the bowl the other way for Beau and Fjord. “Fuck this smells good.”

Caleb looks down at his plate and realizes he has covered nearly half of it. He wonders if he can finish all this.

“Berm!” The cook shouts across the room. “Swales!”

“Ours,” Berm and Swales confirm in unison.

“Delectable!” The cook hits the table with his fist and the merchant table follows suit in agreement. The Nein laugh and do so as well, if a little less in sync. 

“Scooch,” Jester says, having suddenly reappeared amidst all the noise. She looks a little put out, and Caleb is pleased to see that Fjord actually jumps out of his chair to scoot it to one side and fit another one in beside it.

“You get kicked out too?” Fjord hazards, settling back into his seat and watching until she’s sitting too to begin eating again.

“He’s finishing the dessert, I don’t know why he’s being so secretive all of a sudden.” She’s pouting a little, but it’s extremely mollified by the two bowls tipped her way so she can start tucking in.

“You both went in there with secret plans and secret ingredients,” Nott points out mildly. “And kicked the actual employee out of there.”

“Kick me out anytime,” the cook roars heartily from across the room, around a mouthful of beans. Caleb is no longer unsure about whether this man came in to work drunk today or not.

“Well, anyway.” Jester spears a smaller floret and then a bean that she bends in half, making a neat little bite on her fork. She admires it a moment before eating. Beau grins as she takes another pull of ale.

“We will need another seat,” Caleb says after they’ve had a few moments of comfortable silence, and gets up from his emptied (!) plate to pull another chair between himself and Yasha. “Is there enough of the-”

“We made sure,” Beau confirms, and tilts the remainders of the vegetarian bowls onto a plate Yasha grabs from another table. Once it’s arranged and the empties are again stacked, Fjord sits up straight and lets out a long, extremely pleased burp that causes Beau to laugh ale up her nose.

“That was very good,” Yasha says with complete earnestness.

“Perhaps a breath weapon,” Caleb adds, causing Jester to laugh.

“It’s a new attack I’m workin’ on.” Fjord puts on a faux-mysterious look. “Except, it doesn’t work if everyone else has had this much garlic as well…”

“Immunity,” Nott supplies. She’s smiling.

“There it is again,” Beau mutters. She’s leaning back in her chair again, eyes narrowed. “Maybe we’re getting a waft every time he checks the oven?”

“Maybe,” Yasha agrees. “Hmm… oh, yes. I definitely smell it.”

There’s a growing silence at the table as they all join in, breathing deeply, but it’s not easy with the remaining haze of garlic and spices from their plates and their breaths. It takes Caleb several times, and then it’s immediate - a faraway kitchen, an oval blue plate with a faded flower design around the rim, a very small hand using a fork to cut carefully against the clean white dish -

“-don’t think he can hear us,” Beau says with a worried edge to her voice, and Caleb turns to see what the problem is. Beau’s expression relaxes. “Oh, there he is.”

“What?” He says, looking around the table. Several of them are looking at him.

“You were gone for a few seconds there,” Nott says, leaning forward a bit. “Are you feeling alright? If you want to go upstairs and rest, we could bring you -”

“Nein, no, it is fine.” Caleb quirks his mouth, trying to sort out the vision in his mind with the faint warm smell of baking. “I think I might have had this.”

Jester’s lips are pressed very tightly together, holding back - laughter? No, a smile, some secretive smile that she doesn’t want Caleb to see. He’s about to ask her about it when a tall, familiar silhouette appears in the doorway, carrying a repurposed basting tin with a loaf of something in the middle.

“Mohnkuchen,” Caduceus says, with care in every syllable. Caleb stares at the warm yellow cake, freckled with tiny seeds. The Nein make a variety of reactions: surprise, excitement, as Caduceus pulls a blunt knife from his apron and begins to cut it into small sections, making a point to put them on everyone’s plate one by one.

“ _Wie hast_  - how did you-” Caleb stares from the slices to Caduceus, then turns to Jester, who is giggling delightedly as if she just pulled off the best prank in the world.

“It was a group effort,” Caduceus answers with a slow grin. When he lays a slice onto Jester’s plate, he roots around in his apron pocket again, pulling out a slightly crushed but very pretty flower that he presses into the top. Jester’s cheeks turn lavender. “I hope it looks right. Apparently it’s pretty common for recipes to have a lot of variations, even if they are written down somewhere…”

“This is a Zemnian thing?” Nott says around a mouthful.

“He called it a moon cookie,” Fjord reminds her.

“No, moon coo-coo, like, a crazy moon.” Beau holds her forkful up to the lantern. “This is  _super_ fluffy, dude.”

“Thank you.” Caduceus beams. When he slices the last two for himself and Caleb, he straightens up and gestures something to the cook, who hops onto his feet with surprising speed and disappears into the back - presumably there are other cakes for the other tables.

Indeed, Caleb takes the opportunity to focus on something other than himself and waits until the cook reappears, holding two ancient basting pans awkwardly and peering into them as soon as they’re successfully set down on his little table. A merchant has actually gotten out of his chair to come and collect their dish, saying something to the cook, who then carries a dish over to the farmers’ table.

“Not ours,” either Berm or Swales says.

“Must be the grey man’s,” either Swales or Berm adds. “Poppy seeds. Looks lovely.”

“Thank you,” Caduceus says again, but even as he lowers himself down into the slightly too-small chair next to Caleb, he’s still examining the human’s face, his plate, waiting for what must be the true confirmation of authenticity. Caleb straightens and picks up his fork, cleaning it on his napkin before cutting into the little slice with the edge, finding himself smiling at how light Caduceus managed to get it.

“It looks beautiful,” Caleb says earnestly. As the tiniest bit of steam escapes from the center of the fresh bake, he scoops it up with his fork and laughs at the smell. Like his mother’s kitchen, on birthdays and holidays. After the harvest. When he was barely tall enough to reach the high cupboards, needing a stepstool to help her get the ingredients lined up.

Caleb takes a bite - it’s exactly right. He holds it in his mouth a moment, reflecting before chewing, eating the entirety of the slice in continued silence as the others chat and compliment around him. Yasha is saying something about the green beans, now. Nott is describing how the cauliflower sopped up the rest of other foods. One of the farmers has come over and given the enormous gray man a hearty thank-you pat on his shoulder, a few crumbs around his mouth.

Caleb stays in his own little bubble until he’s done. He can feel a familiar warmth in his stomach, the smell of the cake having mingled with everything else in the tavern in a strange harmony.

When he puts his fork down, Caduceus leans down a little, getting to his eye level and lowering his voice.

“Was it, how do you say it in your area…  _lecker?”_

_Delicious_. “Yes.” Caleb was temporarily transported, but now that he’s coming back to himself, he doesn’t feel quite the level of pressured anxiety he normally does. “Thank you. I do not know why you did that for me.”

“Because it might make you happy,” Jester pipes in. She seems to understand the flicker on his expression, because she adds, “Not, like,  _forever_. Just a little nice thing for a little nice moment, you know?”

He doesn’t. “You are both very thoughtful. I do not know what to say.”

“You looked happy while you ate it,” Caduceus says. His expression is warm and gentle, as always.  “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Except maybe what we should make next,” Jester adds. “There’s some kind of forest cake in that book we kept… do you decorate it with bark? What  _is_  it?”

Caleb actually laughs. “It’s, um. Just a nice chocolate cake.”

**

Caleb sleeps through the night that night. 

**

Several weeks later, when they’re walking through a shaded valley, Caleb recognizes the little flower that Caduceus had put on Jester’s dish. He picks a few, pockets them, and resolves to figure out how to give them to her and why he wants to.


End file.
